


Always Just One Block

by TBCat



Series: Deep Waters [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Gore, Drowning, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-07-07 14:48:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15910440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TBCat/pseuds/TBCat
Summary: Genma blames Jiraiya.It is his fault that Genma was investigating the Akatsuki in the first place. Therefore, its his fault that Genma found batshit crazy Uchiha Itachi, and unfairly attractive Hoshigaki Kisame. Therefore, it is Jiraiya's fault that Itachi noticed Genma was a shinobi, and therefore it is his fault that Genma is currently being held prisoner by aforemention, insanely hot missing ninja Hoshigaki Kisame.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It is strongly suggested that you read the previous work in the series, "Almost Just Another Mission". However, I try to keep my writing style and stories in general at least somewhat coherent on their own if you just want to context clue it and jump in with this work.

Kurenai signals for the team to hold back when they reach combat range. Then, she drops to the ground and slinks forward to stand in the middle of the path. Kurenai eyes the hem of Itachi’s cloak, and notes that Hinata’s observations were correct. Itachi stands alone before them, and Genma is gone. 

“Kurenai,” Itachi says quietly, “it is good to see you again.”

Kurenai disrupts her breathing before it falls into the same rhythm as Itachi’s. Then, she asks her only question, “Where is he?”

Itachi’s cloak flutters, but Kurenai’s hair lays undisturbed along the back of her neck. She jumps to avoid the fireball that Itachi blasts, and sends a kunai and explosive tag towards him in return. Itachi substitutes with a loose log from the nearby forest, and Kurenai uses the cover of the explosion to find forest cover herself. 

Hinata should be stationed the farthest, with a minimum half-kilometer between her and the battle at all times. Kiba and Akamaru are supposed to guard her flank and stay with her. Shino has the more difficult task of hiding in the upper branches while staying in range to monitor and direct his hive. 

A kikaichu crawls down Kurenai’s right arm and buzzes twice. She bends forward to dodge the kunai headed for her spine, plants her hands on tree bark, and pushes to the next branch up. Kurenai doesn’t bother turning to face Itachi head on; instead she dissolves into a layered genjutsu. 

The leaves burst from her body and green stem vines sprout riotously from the surrounding trees. Itachi doesn’t bother moving as they wrap around his legs and leaves fall in his hair. Two thrown kunai slam into his body with meaty thwacks; striking the gut and throat. Itachi’s eyes fade to black as his body drips and bleeds and bursts into an angry flock of crows. 

Kurenai breathes through the rare taste of challenge and adrenaline. She bites her lip on a grin. 

Kurenai stands across from Itachi on the dirt path. The ground is clean. Itachi’s cloak almost hides the blood stain on his upper thigh. Kurenai can feel the bruise where her forehead protector blocked a misaimed kunai. 

Shino’s bugs stay still and silent. 

“Where is he?” Kurenai asks politely, again. 

Itachi doesn’t bother shifting his body. Kurenai can imagine the polite movement of his head as he answers, though. 

“You won’t escape me again,” Itachi says quietly. Kurenai smiles with her lips closed. Her lipstick is glossy, and red as blood. Kurenai knows it smells faintly of plant resin. 

She walks forward boldly. Itachi still doesn’t move, but Kurenai is unsurprised by his arrogance. When she gets close, she looks into his eyes; like dirty red mirrors of her own. Then she strikes with a fluid strike of kunai under the ribs. 

Itachi twists out of the way, favoring his injured left side. His kunai flashes up towards Kurenai’s armpit. She pushes his strike aside with her own kunai and kicks her right foot around towards Itachi’s hip. He steps back to dodge the attack, and Kurenai pushes forward into Itachi’s space. Left strike, uppercut, snap kick, back bend dodge, and forward punch towards Itachi’s nose. Uchiha’s used to be trained from birth to instinctively defend the eyes before all else. 

Itachi raises his arm in a block and Kurenai grabs it to twist Itachi into a hold as she twists her chakra. Her form grows into a sallow, hungry tree. Itachi inhales and holds his breath. 

“When?” Itachi asks. The tree sprouts a malnourished flour that buds into a misshapen fruit at unnatural speeds. The peach smiles with jagged teeth and red, red lips. 

“Ah,” Itachi says in understanding. Kurenai is not surprised by his arrogance. Then his form collapses into struggling crows and flailing feathers. The world pins disorientingly and then jerks to a stop. 

Kurenai stands on a clear dirt path. Her arm holds a kunai ready and aloft at Itachi’s neck. Itachi has a kunai held under Kurenai’s ribcage and pointed up towards her lungs. They breath in separate randomized rhythms to each other to avoid the focus of another genjutsu. 

“He will be taken to the closest safe house for debriefing and disposal,” Itachi says. The “obviously” is clearly implied. 

“I have distracted you for long enough,” he continues. Black flames burst along Kurenai’s arm and hand as Itachi jumps backwards. Kurenai’s arm sloughs off her body with a wet slide of sap filled plant matter. Itachi looks at the burning genjutsu for a curious moment before he dissolves amongst the cover of an entire murder of crows. The birds carefully avoid the fire as they dive at Kurenai’s blank-faced form. 

Kurenai straightens from her crouching position along the tree-line. The genjutsu collapses without her reinforcement, and the flames follow. Shino drops down from the tree to land next to Kurenai. His bugs are buzzing freely, and Kurenai understands without words that Itachi must have truly left. 

She waves Shino to follow her back to Hinata.

* * *

 

“K-Kiba,” Hinata says. Kiba huffs in acknowledgement as he double checks the scent patterns at the base of the tree they are waiting at. Akamaru is pressed against Hinata’s legs up on the actual branch, protectively cushioning her against any threats. “K-Kiba,” Hinata contines, “Kurenai and Shino are returning now, but.”

Kiba stops his sniffing to turn his full attention towards Hinata. She is leaning into Akamaru’s presence for reassurance, but her back is straight. He jumps up and leans down to put his face level with hers and sniffs the air around Hinata’s neck. Kiba keeps his eyes away from staring at Hinata’s in direct challenge and instead growls reassuringly. 

“What,” he asks, “you afraid they didn’t leave anyone for you to take out?” 

Hinata doesn’t laugh, but she does finish her thought: “Kiba, Kurenai’s genjutsu just burned to pieces. I- Kiba, I have never seen a chakra construct, b-burn before.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was so struck by inspiration for this chapter it woke me in the middle of the night!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for non-graphic descriptions of torture. 
> 
> Warning for descriptions of drowning and claustrophobia.

Genma wakes up in darkness. 

It feels bright, because of the spots swimming in front of his eyes. his head feels heavy, and Genma can feel his brain trying to squeeze out his ears. Rationally, Genma knows that he is lying on a rough dirt floor in nothing but a pair of shorts. Yet, Genma can feel the unique hangover of extreme chakra exhaustion battering at his senses and eating the strength from his limbs. Genma tries to think if he has enough energy to roll to a sitting position, or even just open and focus his eyes. His gut roils in protest at the very thought. 

Genma lies on the cool, dirt floor.

“Good morning,” Kisame says.

His voice stabs into Genma’s brain like a kunai, and Genma makes an aborted flinch away from the sound above him. His head rolls slightly against the ground. 

Genma breathes through the pain, and nausea, and disorientation. He has all his limbs, and no broken bones. Genma’s chakra is severely, painfully depleted, and Genma keeps involuntarily gasping for breathe as if the very air could be taken from him at any moment. 

Genma counts out his breathing, in and out, before he hyperventilates. 

“Would you please tell me what you know?” Kisame asks. His voice is a neutral, toneless hum hovering above Genma and to the side. It sounds like the impersonal edge of a generic blade. 

Genma counts out one, two, three more breaths. 

A large, sandal-clad foot leans gently against Genma’s rib-cage. Genma is prone, and at this level of exhaustion he couldn’t move even if he tried. Genma’s ribs ache under the pressure of Kisame’s weight. 

“Please, answer my question,” Kisame says quietly. Genma wonders if he sounds sad or angry or cold. Genma feels sick. 

“Genma Shiranui,” he gasps out. Genma feels breathless, and the sound of his own words echo twice as loud in Genma’s skull. His gut tosses like a storm at sea. Genma counts out his breaths, one-two-three, until his blood stops pounding through his skull and his limbs feel real once more. 

Kisame’s foot is a solid, immovable weight. 

“Tokubetsu Jounin,” Genma sighs out. His voice rasps against the air, and Genma notes that he must be in a small, enclosed room of wood and dirt to swallow sound like that. Genma’s throat burns with bile, and he breathes through his body’s protest at the activity. 

Kisame keeps his foot pressed against Genma’s ribs. 

Genma’s head pounds, and his pulse drums out a beat through each of Genma’s limbs. Genma counts the beat as he forces his lungs wide, and presses his expanding gut against Kisame’s pressure. The pressure of Genma’s angry gut is beginning to feel familiar. 

“Konohagakure,” Genma says. The script is simple. No matter how Genma’s body burns and flushes, or his limbs spike with imagined weights, or Genma’s gut yells and screams, Genma knows what to say. More importantly, Genma has an unimportant answer for any question. 

Kisame moves his foot off of Genma. There is a rustle of cloth and a stir of dead air that feels like a kiss to Genma’s fevered body. Genma shifts towards the spot of coolness that looms next to his body. Kisame’s large calloused hand presses against the curve of Genma’s neck and shoulder. 

“Goodnight. We will try again, later,” Kisame says. His voice is a mockery of kindness.

* * *

 

Genma wakes up in darkness. Genma wakes up in darkness, gasping for breath and choking on tepid water that fills his mouth and throat and lungs. He flails and scrambles to his knees, then lifts his head above shallow water using aching core muscles and shaking arms. His insides burn, and his outsides ache for energy that isn’t there. Genma’s chakra system feels so low as to be practically empty and non-existent. 

He coughs bile and water into the shallow water that pools around him. 

Genma can see the looming shadow of a person about a meter away. It looks like Kisame, and though the room is dark and hard to identify the dimensions of Genma is still concerned about the strength of suiton jutsu required to flood any room with any amount of water. Genma hacks up snot and spits into the pool. 

“So, Konoha, how much did you find out?” It is Kisame. His voice sounds like the water; not too deep, but rhythmic and guttural. There is no natural light in the room. 

Genma counts his breaths. He is kneeling in the water and his arms ache with the weight of his body, but if Genma lets go he will drown. The water splashes gently against Genma’s legs. The echoing splashes around the room make Genma think the space is small, but he can’t think or focus. He just knows that the room is small, and he is trapped, and he is going to drown. 

“Genma Shiranui,” he says. Genma is interrupted by a hacking cough. Water dribbles down Genma’s chin. 

“Oh,” Kisame says, “I thought it was Katori?” Kisame shifts forward. He is large, and looming, and impossibly deepens the already dark shadows of the room. Genma thinks it is one small room. Yet, Kisame’s movement doesn’t cause a single ripple in the water. “You know,” Kisame says quietly, “I hate liars.”

Language is weird. Kisame speaks in a quiet caress, yet his words drip with poison that fill Genma’s lungs as surely as the physical water that threatens to drown him. The water is shallow. Genma knows how to water-walk. He shouldn’t drown, but he will. 

Language is weird. Genma told Kisame what he wanted to hear, so that Genma could find out what Konoha needed to know. He never said anything that wasn’t true. Yet, Genma’s lies will drown him as Kisame watches. 

“I didn’t lie to you,” Genma tries. He barely finishes the sentence. 

“You did!” Kisame roars, as his sword swings through the air and water indiscriminately to smack into Genma’s side. The blade is wrapped. Genma only flips through the air to flop against the ground on his back. Logically, Genma knows that Kisame held back and wasn’t aiming to kill him. Yet, Genma lies on his back in the shallow water as it splashes against his face, and Genma believes that he is going to drown. 

Genma is drowning.

* * *

 

Itachi walks into the hideout to find Kisame sprawled in a comically small chair. Samehada is unwrapped across his lap and being fastidiously wiped down. Each of her spiked scales are already perfectly shined and sharpened. Yet, the shiny blue metal of the sword is curved almost gently in Kisame’s grip, and an impossible tongue is wrapped around one arm with grotesque caressing movements. Itachi allows Kisame his peculiarities; Kisame allows Itachi his own. 

“So?” Itachi asks, instead. It is apparently the wrong thing to ask, but people are so unpredictable when they aren’t filling the role of target or enemy or ally. 

“I’m working on it,” Kisame mutters. Samehada growls, malcontent, as Kisame pouts and moves his attention to another already perfect edge. Itachi glances to the single door recessed behind Kisame. The door frame is damp, and the door is firmly bolted shut. Itachi thinks that Kisame can be oddly possessive, and easily attached for a missing-nin. 

“Let me know when you’re done,” Itachi says, “I’ll keep watch.” He moves towards the exit of the subterranean hideout. Itachi can’t force Kisame to act, and Itachi prefers spaces with open sight lines and exposure to the elements, anyway. Itachi doesn’t mind leaving the wet work to Kisame, especially considering that they have time in their schedule. 

Kisame grunts. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The good news is that I have a general ending now planned for this series! And I've decided to go for the Canon Divergent (and therefore good for KisaGen) ending!!


	3. Chapter 3

Kurenai decides to act. 

During the Warring Clans Era, shinobi clans were highly specialized, and the mercenary missions selected by a clan often reflected that. Now, clans are a too-present, historical relic. Instead, each village attempts to train a broad range of shinobi that can service any and all needs of the Daimyo and his lands. Each daimyo and each village is different in their own regionally distinctive ways: Kiri specializes in ruthless, and often violent, mercantile manipulations and takeovers of the many regional shipping ports; Suna focuses on espionage, development, and long-term guard missions for the local court dominated by feudal politics; Kumo struggles to balance and maintain an incredible variety of traditional techniques; and Iwa struggles to develop their limited resources into a militarized empire. Konoha is blessed with abundant resources and the claim to prestigious history within the Elemental Nations. The daimyo focus on international politics and diplomacy, and the shinobi focus on overwhelming strength and cooperation. 

Kurenai cannot leave a member of the mission behind in enemy hands for the time required to retrieve reinforcements. Instead, she will lead her team in an extraction mission, and ignore the threat that they might lose information on the Akatsuki. They never had any solid information on the Akatsuki, anyway, Kurenai rationalizes. 

Shino’s bug is still hiding in the blue-shinobi’s chakra system. Kurenai lets Shino lead the team in pursuit.

* * *

 

Kisame slams Samehada against the dirt floor in frustration. The room is small and dark, and the only thing available to look at is Katori’s prone sprawl. 

“Genma Shiranui,” he says, lifelessly and without even looking at Kisame. Genma doesn’t have the chakra to heal or the physical energy to roll over, yet Genma’s expression effectively displays how he has completely dismissed Kisame. 

Kisame huffs through his nose. He leaves Samehada leaning against the wall and flexes his hand where her violent weight normally counterbalances Kisame’s emotions. 

Kisame crouches next to Genma’s head. It's easy for his eyes to catch the split second glance of dark eyes beneath long lashes at Kisame’s approach. Then, Genma keeps his gaze looking at nothing in the darkness of the room. Kisame keeps still. Genma tracked his movements. Genma is scared of Kisame, and he should be scared of Kisame. 

Kisame pulls out a flask, and raised the flask above Genma’s head. 

“You’re gonna starve or dehydrate soon,” Kisame says, softly, “Do you want a drink?” Kisame stays still. His eyes are focused on Genma’s every minute movement. Kisame’s blood beat steady through his body. It is not a lie, and Kisame will give Genma a drink. 

After.

* * *

 

Itachi stands outside on the top of a weather beaten willow tree. The tree arches over the small hill with gnarled branches and tired leaves, and Itachi stands tall above them. From there, the wind drives cold fingers into the insides of Itachi’s cloak, and the sun burns down on his limp hair. Itachi keeps his eyes open on the distant woods and farther sight of miniature farmland. 

He might even see Kurenai whenever she arrives.

* * *

 

“Tokubetsu,” Genma says stoically. Kisame shoves a salted sardine in his mouth to muffle the rest of the phrase. Genma is propped against the wall as if he is just casually sitting there. Kisame sits to one side with his legs braced against the same wall and his weight pressed back on one hand. In Kisame’s lap is a plate of stale bread and preserved fish.

Samehada is sprawled along Kisame’s legs, and her teeth are guntly dug into Genma’s bare calf as she suckles on his chakra at the same slow rate it is restored. Genma can’t feel the pain in his leg, or the taste of food in his mouth as he slowly chews. Instead, Genma’s senses are narrowed to his own constant generalized pain and Kisame’s smooth, steady questions.

The pain feels like each one of Genma’s cells are experiencing their own personal death, as if Genma has swallowed an entire gallon of the venom from one of Anko’s vipers that target the circulatory system with acidic chemicals. Every time Kisame asks a question the physical sensations stop for a moment like they’re listening, and Genma is left with processing the immediate memory of his own pain. Logically, Genma is aware that he is being conditioned to respond to Kisame’s questions. 

Genma isn’t very logical, right now.

* * *

 

Kisame digs the insides out from the rind of bread. They aren’t soft, as time has ensured, but Kisame knows that the mouths moisture is enough to make the bread swallowable. He rolls the crummy, crumb-y bread between his fingers.

“Please,” Genma says on an inhaled breath. Kisame stills his fingers. That is new. “Please,” Genma repeats, “keep talking.”

Kisame presses a piece of bread against Genma’s lips. Genma opens his mouth obligingly and takes it in one smooth slide. Kisame keeps his eyes on Genma’s face. Genma’s eyes try and track Kisame’s movements, but can’t focus between the pain and the dark. 

“Why?” Kisame asks. Itachi is always frustrated by open questions. Kisame is always frustrated by how easily people can be manipulated by open questions. 

“You were hot,” Genma says. It is unexpected. “So, so hot, and I needed to trail you and Itachi anyway.”

Kisame draws out the silence to see Genma’s response. Samehada takes her queue to resume teething on Genma’s leg and chakra. 

Genma doesn’t jerk, but his muscles twitch. Kisame watches as Genma’s eyes narrow with pain, emotion, and a shinobi’s calculation. Kisame loudly, pointedly, slurps down another fish. Genma’s next words are a spoken with a quiet, poisonous lilt.

“I thought we both had fun,” he says. “You weren’t the biggest dick I ever rode, but the important thing when fucking is technique not equipment.” Genma keeps his voice casual and direct as his tongue drips filth and intimacies. The words gather momentum, and roll of his tongue; “I know my technique was good. You aren’t the first to call me god and then lose their words while my throat was wrapped around their dick.” 

Kisame snaps, “Quiet!” Samehada and Genma freeze for one long moment in wait. “Why get close to Itachi and myself? What information were you trying to get?” Kisame asks in a voice controlled like a sheathed blade. 

Genma doesn’t smile, but Kisame catches the crinkle of one eye in between pained gasps. Kisame eats the last fish and drops the plate with only the stale bread crust to the side. 

“The Akatsuki are terrorists,” Genma says, “It was my mission to get information.” Kisame hooks a finger and a tendril of chakra into Samehada’s mouth to delay her next bite. “I was just lucky that you are,” Genma swallows down the aftershocks of pain in between his words, “uh, hot.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm, sometimes I surprise myself at where the plot goes.
> 
> (Beware some more blood/gore in this chapter. Sorry.)

“You have a day,” Itachi says. His body is a stiff line framed by the light from the doorway. Kisame watches the still rustle of cloth as Itachi turns in the dead air of the small room to close the door behind him. He makes a picture of black and red framed by the outside world, and Kisame thinks he should be grateful for the warning. 

Kisame tosses the empty plate beside him at the wall. Itachi has already left and closed the door, but Kisame relishes the crash of shattering clay as newly broken shards drop to the earthen floor. 

Kisame doesn’t turn to look at Genma. Samehada has him well in-hand, and pottery shards are a useless weapon against Kisame even in the hands of the most clever shinobi. 

“I’m sorry,” Genma speaks quietly, in between heavy breaths. He is braced against the wall of the room, and Genma has rolled his head to the side to watch the shadow of Kisame that is visible in the dark. Kisane doesn’t turn to look at him. 

“I would do it again,” Genma continues to say, “but I am still sorry.” Kisame hates how he relishes and aches and burns at Genma’s words. 

Kisame breathes out the heat of his emotions, and turns to sit across from Genma. He hates lies. Kisame hates lies, and he particularly hates catching when he lies to himself. 

“The Akatsuki will create a world that isn’t chained down by human lies,” Kisame tries, quietly. Kisame has always been persistent. Genma’s eyes don’t focus, but he has moved to rest his hand in between Samehada’s scales. Kisame suspects that Genma may have grown accustomed to the unique burn of her feeding even if he is still suffering from chakra exhaustion. 

“You,” Genma stops, and seems to reconsider his words. “You and Uchiha created a fake will,” Genma says after a short pause. Kisame snorts at the dry accusation.

It doesn’t matter what Kisame says about the Akatsuki, now. In a handful of hours Kisame will have to reach forward and snap Genma’s neck so that he can meet Itachi outside. So, Kisame keeps trying.

“This world is all fake, anyway,” Kisame says. He leans forward over the large form of Samehada as if he could just physically push understanding into Genma. “Akatsuki will sacrifice this world and create a new one where everyone’s truth can be acknowledged!”

Genma is too sick to roll his eyes, but the flat look he levels in Kisame’s direction is offensive enough. “So you’re trading a real world where people shaded by lies and truths, for a fake world where everyone is actively eating their own lies?” Genma asks. His voice is hoarse and stressed from the mouthful. Kisame feels like a stranded jellyfish drying in the sun, even though he is the one in the right. “That doesn’t even make sense,” Genma continues, “the balance between villages is barely strong enough to maintain the current peace, and you think a single group can force behavior upon an entire continent of individuals?”.

Kisame is so frustrated. He slams a fist into the dirt floor and pushes back to regain space between himself and Genma. “You don’t know!” Kisame complains, “Akatsuki needs the jinchuriki’s power to change the nature of the world and give everyone their own truth!”

Genma lies immobile and captured by the enemy on a dirt floor. His leg is a bloody mess where Samehada leisurely feeds upon his chakra system. Genma can’t focus his eyes between his physical condition and complete chakra exhaustion. Genma still looks at Kisame pityingly. 

“That sounds lonely,” he says tiredly, “and truth and lies only matter when there is someone to share them with, right?” Genma stops listening to rest. Kisame growls and tries to start multiple counterpoints, but Genma can only shallowly breathe in time to the pressure of Samehada’s fangs.

* * *

 

Kurenai stands in the trees. Ahead of her, the forest ends at the foot of a gently sloping hill. The hill is populated by sparse tree growth. Beyond the hill, Shino has sensed the steady scent of his planted beetle for the past two days. Kurenai hasn’t allowed the team to approach this close, but Hinata was able to sense the massive chakra of the blue-skinned Akatsuki from over a kilometer away. 

That’s where she left her genin. Kurenai knows better than to bring them closer. 

So, Kurenai stands at the sparse tree-line and settles her chakra to match the rhythm of the ambient nature around her. The air is gentle and the weather temperate, and the hill is empty of small creatures. They always know to avoid larger predators. Kurenai breathes through the fluctuations in her chakra and then she spreads her senses gently out. 

Itachi meets her at the top of the hill.

* * *

 

Genma doesn’t remember how it used to feel. Currently, his body is limp and exhausted. Genma’s legs have stopped screaming in new kinds of pain, and instead Genma’s senses are narrowed to the grind of Samehada’s teeth against bone and the slow drift of chakra leaking out of him like saltwater in the sand. 

Sometimes, Genma rolls his head to the side to look at the flash of Kisame’s eyes or the clear bulk of his body. Genma recognizes Kisame, and it's so easy for Genma to forget in the darkness. It is too easy for Genma’s world to fade to nothing but darkness and Samehada’s needy suckling. Kisame helps Genma remember Konoha, and plans, and ideals. Kisame helps Genma remember that touch can also feel gentle and pleasurable.

“I don’t," Genma rasps as Kisame sulks in the gloom across from him, “understand. What’s true anyway,” Genma can’t feel any chakra in his body, but when he presses his palm into the rough bristle of Samehada he can faintly sense it pulse through the sword. Genma can’t feel any emotions about that, but he also can’t stop pressing his hand firmly against the sword as if he could reach out and grab the chakra back. 

Kisame was leaning against the wall across the room. Genma couldn’t see him, but he could just make out the impression of Kisame’s bulk through the darkness. Then, Kisame is leaning of Genma with bright eyes and bared teeth. 

“You don’t understand!” Kisame says. He still doesn’t get Genma.

“I’m Genma, I’m Kenta, and I’m Katori,” Genma says. “Those are all true and all lies depending on who believes it.”

Genma can’t look away from Kisame’s eyes. It is easy to see anger, but Genma only remembers the desperation he saw in men who only had faith left when the Elemental Nations were at each other’s throats. Samehada shifts her teeth to keep a grip on Genma as his flesh tears and blood leaks. Genma can remember the field medicine he would use to stabilize a comrade’s wounds, but the idea of fixing his own leg feels impossible. 

Kisame breathes with all the force of a tai- and ken- jutsu user. He puts his entire body into each motion, and his thoughts are expressed in the grunts and scoffs and moans. Kisame’s words are as sharp and exact as the motions of his sword. 

“Yet the sky is blue and the grass is green,” Kisame says “and you are still my enemy.” Genma is surprised that the comment stings at all past the pain of Samehada’s constant attention. More importantly, Genma sees an opening. 

Sometimes Genma forgets that he is a warforged shinobi. He survived a war, and was selected to guard a hokage. He survived a war, and maintains an active membership in ANBU. He survived a war both on the battlefield and in multiple interrogation rooms from either side. 

It is so important for a shinobi to stay calm and in control, or else they might stab their own foot with a poisoned kunai. Genma suddenly sees a chance, even as Samehada laps chakra from his system like a lazy house cat. 

“Is the sky blue,” Genma asks, and it almost feels like friendly teasing as he continues, “what does blue mean? Or does the sky never change to black or pink or orange or purple depending on the weather.” Genma is almost surprised by the rush of adrenaline his body is somehow still able to produce. He keeps his eyes locked on Kisame and lets the blood roar through his head behind a still face. 

Kisame looks angry, or maybe he looks sad. His eyes don’t leave Genma’s face as he wraps a large hand around Samehada’s hilt. 

“I'm going to leave now,” Kisame says, “and you can tell me if you bleeding out is true.” Genma is almost surprised that Kisame is running away. Kisame stands with leisurely speed and pulls Samehada with him. The sword pulls flesh and blood with it, just to let the meat drop wetly on the ground. Genma is incredibly surprised at the scream he has left inside him in response. 

Kisame turns and walks away. He opens the door to the room, and even as light illuminates wet dirt, dark blood, and Genma’s savaged leg, Kisame remains a large form that is backlit. 

“If we see each other again, we can argue about the color of the sky then," Kisame says. He closes the door to leave Genma bleeding in the dark. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this became a weird and oblique allusion to Relativism and that one "color of the sky" tumblr post.


	5. Chapter 5

The sky is pale blue, like the shell of a bird egg, and clouds drift over the small hill like the feathers of a baby bird. The willow tree crowns the top of the hill like an elderly queen. A crack splits the air and the tree trunk splits in half. Fresh growth rips out in a green bulge and darts through the air towards Itachi’s cloaked figure with a gaping needle toothed jaw.

The plant-mouth closes over fabric and then the air freezes. Slowly and all at once color leeches out of the world, and the clouds turn into blood drenched black feathers. The soaked clouds fall to the ground in one sodden rush and turn everything ashy black. 

The air cracks with the sound of splitting wood, and the willow tree rapidly grows to its old height. It’s long leaves drip like unbrushed hair to the ground. I large white flower bud grows, and drips with heavy weight and spits out a pale white peach. A kunai slits through the wet flesh of the fruit from the inside, and painted nails push apart the new edges with a squelch.

* * *

 

Genma laughs in the dark. He can hear the manic edge to the sound, but it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter, and Genma laughs as his blood drips slowly into the dirt floor. Genma listens. Samehada is gone. Kisame is gone. Genma can hear his pulse, but not the sound of iron scraping against bone. Genma can feel the twitch of his chakra; staying in his body instead of being sucked away. Genma laughs, excitedly. 

Genma lifts up his hand. He is gripping the cloth normally wrapped around Samehada tightly. Genma laughs, and gets to work.

* * *

 

Kurenai stabs her kunai around through the air. Itachi ducks under the swing and jabs his hand towards Kurenai’s solar plexus. She twists around the strike and brings her heel up towards Itachi’s ribs. Itachi leaps backwards. His hands fly towards his mouth, so Kurenai tosses her kunai and lifts her own hands. 

A fireball blasts through the air with twice the circumference of Kurenai. It knocks her kunai off trajectory and into the dirt. Kurenai’s body lights up in a flash of ashes. The wind gently stirs the clean grass, empty of any people. 

Kisame trudges up the hill with Samehada slung over his shoulder. “Stop playing around, Itachi!” he calls out. The willow tree rustles gently, and the blue sky curves high above. A kunai slams down from above to jam in Kisame’s shoulder. “Shit!” he yells with a full body jerk.

Itachi slams an elbow into Kurenai’s extended arm, and she releases her grip on the kunai to buckle out of Itachi’s way. Kurenai tries to spin around into another heel-strike. Itachi catches her foot with a single hand, and grabs the kunai out of Kisame’s shoulder. 

“Ow!” Kisame yells, “the hell!”

Itachi shifts his grip and swings the kunai towards Kurenai’s hamstring. Kurenai leaps her weight to lean into Itachi’s grip and somersault over Itachi’s head. She rolls under Kisame’s arm and raises her hands together. Kisame swings Samehada down, over-handed, to slam into Kurenai’s back. She collapses, with a creak of snapping wood, into a splintered tree-limb.

* * *

 

Genma bites down his scream as he tightens the knotted bandages swathed around his leg. It's too dark to see. Instead, Genma dragged his hands along the tears in his leg to guide his shitty job stopping his own bleeding. Genma collapses backwards across the ground. He can’t see. Genma still has to find a way up to his feet, and get to some sort of civilization. 

“Genma,” Kurenai says quietly. She doesn’t whisper; whispers carry. Genma freezes as Kurenai forms out of the darkness on silent feet. 

“Kurenai,” Genma grunts, wide-eyed, “what the hell are you doing here?”

Kurenai lifts Genma over her shoulder. She gives Genma a quick slant of her eyes in response to the question, and then half-drags him towards the door. “Hurry,” Kurenai says, “my clone won’t last much longer.” 

Genma bites his teeth as his leg jams against the doorframe on the way out. “You idiot,” Genma hisses between gasps, “the sharingan -” Kurenai pulls Genma sideways up the narrow staircase. The muscles of her biceps flex around Genma’s back. 

Kurenai stops before the top of the stairs. She leans into Genma’s ear; “I am Konoha’s Genjutsu Mistress,” she breathes, “I know more about the sharingan’s limits than any other non-Uchiha in the Elemental Countries.”

Genma swallows. “Sorry,” he mouths silently. Kurenai turns away from Genma to peek out of the exit, and raises her free hand. She forms a series of hand signs with one-hand, and then drags Genma at double speed.

* * *

 

“Oh,” Itachi says. Kisame freezes with Samehada still struck into the chunk of wood on the ground. Itachi almost never sounds surprised. Kisame turns his head to look curiously at Itachi, careful not to move the scratch along his shoulder. Itachi’s eyes spin with red and black. “It’s just her clone running around,” Itachi explains. Kisame slings Samehada around and tries to ignore the sting of annoyance at Itachi’s dull tone. 

“Why the fuck were you playing around with her clone?” Kisame asks. Itachi steps past Kisame silently and peers into the distant. Kisame takes a deep breath and turns away from the safe house. He can start walking towards the city, at least, and Itachi can join Kisame when he is done playing. 

A kunai flies out of the closest ground cover to strike against Kisame’s quickly raised sword. It flies into the air where an exploding tag detonates flashily. The woman dashes past Kisame towards Itachi. Kisame ignores them and keeps walking.

Itachi blocks a series of quick punches before jabbing his fingers under the ribcage. The clone collapses into a pile of loose dirt with a soft deflating sound. 

Itachi stretches his legs until he comes to walk even with Kisame. His pace is even, but Itachi’s steps make the slightest sound instead of their usual silent glide. Kisame glances at Itachi from the side of his eye. “A clone?” Kisame asks judgmentally.

“Mistress Kurenai is well known for her mastery of genjutsu and misdirection,” Itachi says. Kisame raises his eyebrows at Itachi’s wordiness. Normally Itachi hates getting in fights. Who knew that Itachi was just lonely. Itachi glares at Kisame’s low chuckle before tossing his arm out. 

Shuriken fly into the bushes.

* * *

 

Kurenai drops Genma to raise a pair of kunai. Genma picks a handful of senbon from Kurenai’s bag with a quick triple tap and rolls backwards as he falls. He braces himself against the low bush and ignores the feeling of twigs poking into his bare skin. Kurenai moves from the waist to knock the handful of shuriken out of the air. Kisame falls back and stares.

“Your clone cast better genjutsu,” Itachi says flatly. Kurenai stares at his feet with red eyes and doesn’t move. Itachi sighs. Kurenai moves her fingers as Itachi raises his arms, and a small wave of dirt rises to meet the charging fireball. Heat blasts past Genma’s body with a rushing sound. 

Genma rolls to his belly while visibility is broken and drags himself deeper into the groundcover. Kurenai tracks Genma’s position from the corner of her eye and then leaps in the other direction. Her hands don’t stop moving, and Genma can’t keep track of her chakra levels when his own chakra and perceptions are still so messed up. 

The sky looks red. 

Kurenai’s body collapses into a pile of loose twigs and young daffodils. The fresh turned dirt collapses, and the upturned grass quickly burns out. Itachi looks down at the new growth and laughs with red eyes. 

He ducks and spins with his elbow out. Kurenai catches the strike in her left hand and punches Itachi in the face with her right hand. Itachi takes the blow to twist his arm around and dig his fingers into Kurenai’s left shoulder. Then he shifts his weight.

Itachi pulls Kurenai down and drives his knee into her gut. She gasps and chokes. Itachi frowns and keeps hold of Kurenai’s shoulder. He raises a fresh kunai in his other hand and drives it down at the base of Kurenai’s skull. 

A senbon flies through the air, and Itachi shifts his weight entirely to one side. The senbon flies through the fall of Itachi’s hair instead of stabbing his neck and strikes the falling kunai. Itachi stills his kunai in surprise as the senbon screeches with the sound of ringing metal and deflects. Kisame ducks the flying projectile as it streaks towards his eye. 

Kurenai takes the distraction to twist into a backbend and raise her legs up to wrap around Itachi’s arm. She drops her weight to wrench Itachi’s shoulder, and Itachi releases his grip on her shoulder. He leans into Kurenai’s weight to drive his kunai down and raises his other hand. 

Kurenai twists her waist sideways and slithers out of the gap as Itachi’s kunai thuds into the dirt. Itachi releases his kunai and rolls forward to stand back at full height. In a ruffle of his cloak he dissolves into crow feathers. Kurenai, spineless, whips back to standing as a thorny sunflower.

Kisame swings Samehada around to point towards Kurenai’s sunflower and grins as Samehada sniffs the air in interest. 

“The sky is red!” Genma calls, throwing his voice like he is playing an academy prank. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooh, so close!


	6. Chapter 6

Samehada strains forwards through the air in Kisame’s hand. He can feel the eager shift of her balance as her scales flutter, and his grip is loose on her handle so that Samehada can move like the extension of his own body that she is. The problem is that Kisame can’t seem to move his body. He looks up and the sky is a glorious painting of red from the setting sun. In the far distance the edges of trees shade the horizon in spiky grey, but here the light is a stretch of bright orange and gentle red like a bird’s feathers. The last birds Kisame remembers seeing outside of a painting were Itachi’s crows or Deidara’s clay monstrosities.

Kisame knows that he isn’t in one of Itachi’s genjutsu. A cloud is stretched out through the air and moves in a swift wind high above ground level. It isn’t white; the dying light has bled into the cotton and colored it candy-pink. Samehada is still straining towards the fresh trail of Kurenai’s chakra, and if foreign chakra had wrapped Kisame in a genjutsu then Samehada would surely have chomped onto Kisame and drained the intrusion out. 

“The sky is blue,” Kisame says with a low growl. He hates lying, and he hates when he lies to himself most. Kisame slams Samehada through the loose turf with a surge of his muscles and ignores her plaintive whine. “Fucking,” he curses, “I left you to die.” Samehada whines along with Kisame and rubs jagged scales against his leg. She draws blood; she is mad about Kisame’s rough handling even as she shows sympathy. 

The air is silent. The sunflower in front of Kisame is growing unnaturally fast. In a handful of minutes it will reach unnaturally high towards the flock of corvids that circle in the air. For every leaf that it sprouts, it grows a wickedly curved thorn as well. 

“Not everything is true,” Genma’s voice floats, indeterminable, through the air, “and not every truth is the only one.” Kisame steps forward in one solid stride and swings horizontally in front of him. Samehada bites through the thin stem of the sunflower greedily. The image wavers before reappearing.

The sunflower reaches the whirling birds of Itachi’s reforming image. It unfurls a ring of brilliant yellow petals as stiff as blades. Kurenai strikes with a swift jab of her kunai that screeches as it deflects off the blade Itachi suddenly raises. The kunai are released simultaneously from two different hands and fall heavily to the ground. The images of growing genjutsu and flashing false feathers are replaced by the gentle whistle of metal and flapping paper. Kisame throws his hands up and leaps to the side; a bullet of water redirects the blades in two different directions where they then burst in a fiery explosion. The light smoke disperses to show a heavily breathing Kurenai standing across from Kisame. Itachi stands next to Kisame with proud posture; a bead of sweat drips down his chin. 

Kisame lowers Samehada to point gently towards the ground. She is still facing Kurenai’s panting form, but Kisame is concerned with the faint tension he can see in the muscles of Itachi’s hand.

“Your experience is undeniable,” Itachi declares to Kurenai. She bows her upper body in thanks, but doesn’t remove her eyes from Samehada. 

“Really,” Kisame says. It's not a question, and Itachi doesn’t respond. Technically, they have another several days worth of travel and a battle with a jinchuriki to prepare for. Kisame raises his hands for a long sequence of signs and bends his chakra around Samehada’s greedy pull. The humidity in the air condenses and rains down towards Kurenai as several grinning sharks. 

Kurenai reacts before Kisame can finish forming his Jutsu, and tosses an explosive tag into the air and towards Itachi. Itachi detonates the tag early with a quick Fireball, and the rush of warm air on the ground billows disturbs the trajectory of the other kunai. Three senbon flash through the air; one redirects the trajectory of Kurenai’s kunai in time to intercept Kisame’s ninjutsu, and the other two fly towards Itachi. 

The senbon are practically on top of each other, and Itachi’s automatic deflection with a simple kunai just splits the needles. One leaps straight into the air to impale a shark tale, and the other jabs into Kisame’s shoulder. 

Kisame flinches and continues a further series of hand signs as the air above splits with a large explosion. Kurenai leaps upwards into the billowing smoke, and Kisame can see the surge of muscles that indicate she is about to use another jutsu. Kurenai’s legs disappear from Kisame’s vision faster than the spreading smoke could possibly explain, and hundreds of scattered water droplets rain towards the ground. Itachi closes his eyes tiredly behind the disguising sleeve of a raised arm. The water strikes the ground with the teeth of hundreds of starving sharks, and blood pinkens freshly forming puddles. Kisame judges that he only struck a non-vital area by the amount of blood in the water; the direction tells Kisame that Kurenai is fleeing.

Kisame finishes his own secondary jutsu and the puddles don’t even have time to soak into the dirt before rising in a thin pressed mist. The air becomes heavy, dark, and tinged with ribbons of pink; Kurenai’s blood caught in the mist. It would be impossible to track Kurenai or Genma’s scent in the mist, but neither Itachi or Kisame are skilled at tracking. Kisame grips Itachi’s arm firmly through the silk of the Akatsuki robe, tighter than he would ever dare to grab Samehada. 

Itachi closes his eyes and rubs the gathering headache at his temples as Kisame drags them away in a strategic retreat.

* * *

 

Kisame pushes Itachi to travel at a ninja’s pace through three small towns. They don’t encounter any conflict, and Kisame doesn’t bother to push conversation onto Itachi as he stews. Kisame also doesn’t question why Itachi didn’t bother to use any visual jutsu. Kisame didn’t bother to feed Kurenai or Genma directly to Samehada. Kisame keeps his swords tightly wrapped and slung over his back. 

When they finally settle down at the next safe house and Itachi brews a pot of green tea to share, Kisame speaks. Itachi stays reticent and looks out the window at the purple dusk sky. 

“I’m giving up on the Eye of the Moon plan,” Kisame says. Itachi doesn’t react. Kisame’s finger has a tan line where he ditched his Akatsuki ring, but Kisame hasn’t bothered to remove the non-descript robe. “Do you want to go see Sasuke yet?”

Itachi finishes his tea before he reacts. His face is lined, and he doesn’t move his eyes from the window. Kisame can see the red in the glass as Itachi controls his response. “I’m not ready,” Itachi says, “and neither is Sasuke.” Kisame takes a polite sip of his tea. “If you leave the Akatsuki, I will be expected to hunt you down or else leave with you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I know this ending isn't satisfying on a shipping level.   
> I have a truly schmoopy Kisame/Genma AU oneshot WIP that I hope to publish soon in apology. 
> 
> I also left things a little open with this story; I originally planned a slightly worse ending in regards to the KisaGen that would keep the story slightly more canon-compliant, but this is where my muse led. I don't currently have any more plans for this series, but the possibility is there if inspiration ever strikes (or if someone else wants to add on~).


End file.
